Adventure, December 1914 — page 87: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Lancing of the Whale and that can not even be acquired by most, he laid his finger on the weak spot before he had turned two pages. Page after page, then, served to confirm his judgment. The plans had been laid for an advance. Every stage of an advance by a whole army-corps, or any part of one, was planned in detail. Fresh-water wells were marked, and the number of men and horses that could be watered at them in an hour; bad places on the roads had marks against them, and numbers to signify how many pioneers would be required to make things passable. Grazing places, crops, villages, with the number of inhabitants in each, approximate amount of corn that foragers might expect to gather in each neighbor- hood—all were stated clearly. The whole was a wonderful example of Russia’s method and persistence in her everlasting forward crawl to warm seas. “Took here, Andry!” Dick exclaimed. “Look here, Usbeg Ali! Where’s Usbeg Ali? Send him here. Look at this, both of you. See? This is the track of the gun- boats and other steam-craft that are to bring the first division by water. They’re to deliver their loads in Astrabad bay and then return for more. See what it says here? Shallow water! See this foot-note? ‘Water growing shallower every year.’ Note the provision made for floats and native craft to be collected and kept in Astrabad bay to help the troops ashore?” “Aye!” said Andry. ‘Hear this, sir.” He held up the maid’s letter, smacking his lips with unction. “She’s a bonny, leal lassie, f’r a’ she’s French! Hear what she says. ‘Tell him’—an’ that’s you, sir—‘that she did love. Now she hates. The advance is ordered. She has sent a telegram. In three or four days, the steamers and many men will arrive. Other men will come slowly, overland. Tell him—Run—Run— Run! The remainder, sir, is pairsonal to me. I may say she’s anxious f’r ma health, an’ ma runnin’ ability! She’s a verra con- seederate an’ leal wumman. I wad she were here.” ‘“‘She’s safer where she is—”’ smiled Dick. “More useful, too!”’ “Aye! But I’m no’ content aboot her mistress. Jezebel, that was wife to Ahab king o’ Israel, was a virtuous leddy beside her! She’s a verra bad wumman, Mr. Dicky, an’ I’m feared Ss ‘Afraid of what?” 85 “T dinna ken—but I’m feared.” “Well, Andry, you shall have your maid —TI think—but we'll all have to fight hard for something else before you get her. What d’you think of this, Usbeg Ali Khan?” The Afghan was staring at the map over Dick’s shoulder, running fingers through his beard and striving hard to make sense of what was altogether strange to him. In spite of his travels and his military educa- tion, his ideas on geography were vague. “Do you see the weak spot in their plan?”’ “Not I, bahadur! If I might study it an hour or two, and translate those Russian characters, I have no doubt I “You know the history of Russia’s ever- lasting forward movement, don’t you? Now, look at this map—you’re a soldier —read, man, read! Where’s their fatal error?” Usbeg Ali shook his head; he could look like a small boy flunked by his teacher when anything turned up that was beyond his mental grasp. | “Take it and look at it!’ said Dick push- ing the map into his hand. Andry grew in- terested too, and looked over the Afghan’s shoulder, shoving his own painfully written letter from the maid into his shirt-pocket. “It’s all planned for advance, isn’t it? Do you see the slightest preparation, any- where, in any one particular, for a retreat? Do you see how that army-corps, or any considerable part of it, could be maneuvered so as to act on the defensive for a while? Can you see what that army-corps would do—could do—to protect its stores and lines of communication? Can you guess, even, what it would do if it were attacked from behind, and the wires were cut behind it? What would happen for instance, if it were attacked from this direction? Dick tapped the paper with his finger and smiled as ne watched the Afghan’s eyes. ‘“‘In the name of Allah the Compassion- ate, bahadur, this is the gift of God! The Russians are delivered in our hands!’’ “Not yet quite, Usbeg Ali! But you see the idea? ‘They’ve made a foil of us— they’ve used us as a good excuse for the ad- vance; and once they get here—provided we stay still—they’ll have us shut in at their mercy. But we needn’t stand still. We can take the fight to Russia, and that, my friend, is what we are going to begin doing this afternoon!” Andry laid a huge forefinger on the map DOOLK C©